Monster
by Lady Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Summary: Tears streamed down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily, she didn't want to cry. Hated to cry. It was weak to cry or so she'd been brought up to believe. The bedroom was dimly lit by a few candles, the fire long since burnt out in the hearth, she sat on the edge of her huge double bed, the satin and silk covers soft under her.
1. Blacks don't cry

**/ AN: This will get dark and heavy as the chapters go on. You are warned. I'd like to dedicate this story to my darling Babydoll Maneater, it's because of reading her fiction that I was inspired to do a Tom Riddle/Bellatrix Black fiction. (Gotta love 'ya darling.)**

**This fiction will tell the story of Bellatrix's life, how she came to be how she was and why. Updates will be slow I have a lot going on in my life and sometimes I find it hard to write but I'll do the best I can.**

**Please R+R. Thank you.**

_I see God and he is my friend_

_but the devil's standing next to him,_

_he says my name and I feel so weak,_

_just like a monster you cannot speak,_

_I am like a monster..._

_when I speak am I a monster... when I speak?_

_your just a monster when we speak so I'm a monster when I speak..._

_can I speak? I'll be your monster when we speak_

_and I will speak to destroy..._

_speak and destroy... ~My Ruin~_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily, she didn't want to cry. Hated to cry. It was weak to cry or so she'd been brought up to believe. The bedroom was dimly lit by a few candles, the fire long since burnt out in the hearth, she sat on the edge of her huge double bed, the satin and silk covers soft under her.

The room was filled with everything a young girl could want. Clothes, jewelry, pretty things she liked and loved, but to the girl it was empty. She was empty.

Loneliness in a house filled with people some would say is a strange thing, but it happens. To feel so totally detached from everyone around you, family, friends even yourself, it happens. She could hear them downstairs talking about her, she couldn't hear what they were saying but she heard a name a few times, they often did that, talked about her. She told herself she didn't care, but she did. She wanted to go down and defend herself, but what was the point, it would only cause more fighting.

She didn't want the pretty things, she didn't want any of it, all she wanted was to feel loved. She didn't feel loved, hadn't for long years. She'd forgotten what it felt like to have her mother embrace her, she'd forgotten what it was like to have her father take a moment out of his day to speak to her. She was a stranger in her own home, or that's how she felt. No connection to any family member, they used to be there, those connections but now. . . Now they'd gone. Faded away into nothing, maybe they were still there but just weaker than before but if they were there Bellatrix Black couldn't see them.

She was hurting, aching from the jealously that she couldn't stop, couldn't help. She wanted to run away but she had no place to go. She wanted to scream and shout to tell people around her how she felt, lonely and sad, but then like always no one would listen. They'd call her childish and immature, maybe she was those things, but did it matter if she was? She needed something, to feel loved, to feel understand and she didn't have those things.

She had no close bond with anyone anymore, and it seemed no one cared. Was she that easy to throw away? She'd not eaten all day, no one came to ask if she was alright, if she was hungry. She heard her fathers foot steps on the stairs and a part of her waited to see if the man she loved more than any other would peep around her door just to check on her. She waited. . . And waited. Nothing. He'd passed by without giving his eldest daughter a second thought. Why would he give her a second thought anyway? Narcissa was the best daughter, she was the one everyone loved and flocked around. Andromeda spent her time locked in her bedroom, but she was happy she had a close knit group of friends who loved her, Bellatrix had no one.

That was until the day the young girl, met Tom Riddle, the man who would change her life and create a monster.


	2. Sweet dreams

**AN: Credit to BabyDoll Maneater for her help and ideas for this chapter. Thank you, darling. Warnings for this chapter, contains insect. I know some people are marshmallows so I thought I'd better put a warning up.**

**Dream is in italics not for people to get confused.**

_Sweet dreams are made of these_

_Who am I to disagree?_

_Travel the world and the seven seas_

_Everybody's looking for something ~Marilyn Manson~_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Pain, pain and fear, fear and pain it mingled into one and made her scream, scream so loud she couldn't even hear herself anymore, she'd become deaf to the sound._

_The room was warm, to warm, she was hot and sweat trickled down her pale skin. The table under her back was hard and she was trying to grab onto something but the smooth surface had nothing for her fingers to hook into, so she held onto him._

Bellatrix Black tossed in her bed, her hands gripping the sheets in a vice like hold as she whimpered into the empty room, the fire long since dead in the black marble grate. Her body shone in the moonlight from the thin layer of sweat that covered her skin, her cotton nightie clinging to her.

_His voice coming from somewhere to her right, she couldn't see him, the man who's voice was speaking, but she felt it, felt it vibrate through her like a living thing, a pulse of energy, a breathing entity. She tried to turn her head to find him but the sharp slap to her cheek made her cry out in both shock and pain, more pain, more than she was already feeling. The voice again, she tried to hold her breath to listen but the grunting of the man above her drowned out the sound of Tom Riddle's smooth yet cold velvet voice._

The bedroom was fast growing cold from the dead fire, but Bellatrix was burning hot. She writhed alone in the bed, her whimpers had grown in volume, louder than before but not loud enough to wake anyone else in the house. Her back arched, her eyes squeezed shut tight and blood on her lips where she'd bitten down.

_She looked up at him, her dark eyes wet with tears as she met the eyes of her father. He was hurting her and she could see it in his eyes he didn't want to be hurting his Bella, his Black Diamond. She clung to him, her mind trying to grip why he was doing this to her, why the man with the lovely voice and beautiful eyes had told her father to do what he was doing. She was meant to be pure on her wedding night, her father had told her so himself, she wasn't pure now. And never would be again. Would Rodolphus Lestrange still want to marry an unpure witch? Strange thoughts for the witch be having at that moment but then people think and do the strangest things when they're in shock. And that's just what she was in._

Her head tossed from side to side, her curls becoming matted and tangled as she squirmed in her bed. A owl hooted somewhere in the grounds of Black Manor and her caged raven ruffled it's feathers and shifted on it's perch but the beautiful witch didn't wake.

_That voice again, instructions being spoken to her father who was obeying them without question. Cygnus Black never obeyed anyone but himself but now he was a puppet on a string and was handing his brilliant and beautiful daughter over to the man that would ruin her. She closed her eyes and tried to think of anything else, it didn't work and she couldn't help but cry out as she felt a warm burst of liquid inside her_.

The scream woke her, her own scream. She sat bolt upright in the bed and her wide eyes looked frantically around the dimly lit room. She was alone. The table under her back wasn't there, she was in her bed, the voice of the wonderfully handsome man was gone, she was alone, her father wasn't moving on top of her, she was clutching her bedsheets. Covered in sweat yet shivering cold, Bellatrix fell back onto her pillows and covered her eyes with her hands. Just a dream. It was just a nightmares wasn't it?

She'd have believed it to be a dream but for the burning ache between her legs, the soreness of her hips and the smell of Tom Riddles cigar that still clung to her hair.


End file.
